


man, oh man, you're my best friend (I scream it to the nothingness)

by anniebrackett



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Slight Canon Divergence, Whump, crime wives, harding-hale family feels, jen may be the top but judy is the big spoon, post-s2, this probably isn't medically accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebrackett/pseuds/anniebrackett
Summary: “The last time Judy cried alone in a hospital hallway, she swore it would never happen again. But here she sits, hands clenched around Jen’s shirt, begging the universe to remember that this is the one person she wouldn’t be able to recover from losing.”
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 11
Kudos: 167





	man, oh man, you're my best friend (I scream it to the nothingness)

**Author's Note:**

> Conveniently ignoring the fact that Charlie found Jen's letter to Judy. Simply not a bridge we will be crossing tonight, folks.

The last time Judy cried alone in a hospital hallway, she swore it would never happen again. But here she sits, hands clenched around Jen’s shirt - the paramedics had cut it off her at the roadside along with her seat-belt, and Judy had grabbed it without thinking, desperate to cling to some piece of Jen through it all - begging the universe to remember that this is the one person she wouldn’t be able to recover from losing. 

\--------------------------- 

When they finally let her into Jen’s room, she sways in the doorway, taking a step back at the sight of Jen unconscious and bruised. 

She draws in a slow breath, squeezes her hands into fists, and forces herself across the threshold.

“Hi,” Judy’s voice cracks as she runs her hand down Jen’s arm. “You really scared me back there.” 

Instead of Jen’s voice, the silence of the hospital room answers her, and Judy chokes on another sob. 

She remembers everything leading up to this moment with such clarity it makes her chest ache; makes her want to rip out whatever part of her is responsible for feeling this way and leave it on the table next to Jen’s bedside. 

She remembers thinking Jen looked so beautiful in the afternoon sun that it hurt to not be able to reach over and touch her. She remembers flirting shamelessly with her, instead, and remembers the way Jen laughed. She remembers thinking they were going to be okay. 

But the memory of that moment is quickly followed by that of another car crashing into them - crashing into the car they had just bought for _their kid_ ; of Jen, terrifyingly still and bleeding next to her; of hearing somebody screaming and not knowing who it was, until Judy realized it was coming from her. 

\--------------------------- 

Judy wants nothing more than to curl up in the hospital room and refuse to leave until Jen can come home with her. But she knows Jen would want her to put the boys first. And she knows she needs to prove - mostly to herself - that she’s worthy of being named their legal guardian. 

So she takes them home when visiting hours are over; she cooks them dinner, tucks Henry into bed at a reasonable hour, and crawls into Jen’s empty bed under the guise of being close in case the boys need her.

When her alarm goes off the next morning, she’s not surprised that she hasn’t managed to get any sleep. 

\--------------------------- 

Judy sets places for the boys at the kitchen island and tries to create some semblance of normalcy by cooking breakfast. She’s not offended when neither of them touch their food. 

Instead, as soon as they sit down, she's faced with identical questioning looks. 

Judy suddenly feels in over her head, much like she did the morning she woke up to nothing but a letter and a binder from Jen. 

“There haven’t been any updates on your mom,” she tries to deliver the news gently, knowing how bitter of a pill it can be to swallow. She’s the one who called the hospital looking for an update at 6:00am, after all. “But after breakfast we’ll head over to the hospital and visit, okay?” 

Henry frowns and nods. 

Charlie just frowns. “What the hell happened, Judy?” 

She takes a breath to steady herself. “We were driving home and - and a car hit us in an intersection.” She decides to conveniently leave out _what_ and _where_ they were driving to spare Charlie, at least for the time being, until she can consult Jen ( _i_ _f she can consult Jen_ , the looming fear in the back of her mind reminds her). 

“Who hit you?” 

“We don’t know. Whoever it was, they drove away.” 

Charlie laughs sharply. “Of course they did. What the fuck is wrong with people in this town?”

Judy tries not to flinch at that. 

\--------------------------- 

Judy doesn’t know that Steve’s body has been found until Detective Perez shows up in Jen’s hospital room and tells her. With her hand carefully tangled with Jen’s to avoid the IV line stuck in the back of it, hearing the words she would have dreaded a month ago feels like the least of her problems. 

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a brief moment where she’s suddenly terrified Perez is going to arrest her right there, leaving the kids to fend for themselves and their medically-comatose mother. In those thirty seconds, she feels like she’s choking on air. 

But then Perez puts her out of her misery. “The case is still open, but we’re operating on the theory that he was killed as a result of his mafia ties.” 

Judy doesn’t know if she should thank her, or apologize, or some combination of the two. She hopes she’s managing to convey it all with her teary eyes. 

“I hope she comes out on the other side of this,” Perez nods in Jen’s direction. 

Judy smiles. Perez doesn’t return it, but Judy is positive she hates her a little less in this moment, even if it is just pity. 

\--------------------------- 

The doctors tell Judy that Jen will be kept in the medically-induced coma for two weeks at most, but that doesn’t stop her from calling the hospital first thing every morning to ask if today will be the day. 

They tell her Jen most likely can’t hear what goes on around her during this time, but that doesn’t stop her from clinging to Jen’s side, talking her ear off in ways she would never get away with if she were conscious. 

“So, the hospital staff think we’re married,” she starts, a handful of days into their flux state. “They told me not to hesitate if I had any questions about my wife’s care, and I just went with it.” Judy laughs and tries not to focus on the fact that Jen doesn’t. 

In the silence of the room, Judy distractedly twists her rings off one by one. She slides one down Jen’s finger, liking the way it looks. She pulls it off before she can get any ideas. Or before Jen can miraculously come to and ask what the hell she’s doing. 

“The boys are good. Well, as close to ‘good’ as they can be, right now. I’m trying to be there for them without being overbearing, but it’s hard,” Judy muses. “I have no idea how you do this every day, Jen. I feel like I’m trying my best, and it’s just never enough. And I know I could always consult the binder, but that feels too final. And this _isn’t_ final.” 

She watches Jen’s face for any sign of acknowledgement, knowing full well she isn’t going to get one. 

She sighs, ending the visit as she always does: with a kiss to Jen’s brow, and a murmured, “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

\--------------------------- 

One of the last people Judy wants to see in the midst of her life falling to pieces (again) is Michelle. But there she stands regardless, looking as out of place in the hospital hallway as Judy did when their roles were reversed. 

“Hey, Judy,” Michelle starts, twisting her hands nervously. “I heard what happened, and I guess I just wanted to -” 

“I can’t do this,” Judy cuts her off in a way that she knows Jen would be proud of. Before she realizes it, she’s positioning herself between Jen’s door and Michelle. “My kids are here.” 

“Your kids?” Michelle screws her face up in a way that Judy can’t help but think is wholly unattractive. “I thought they were hers.” 

“They’re ours.” 

Michelle goes very, very still. “Things are starting to a lot more sense now.” 

Judy doesn’t have the energy to unpack that statement, so she settles for glancing at the door until Michelle gets the hint. 

When she gets back to Jen’s room, she wraps her arms around Henry in the chair next to his mother’s bedside, and when he squeezes back, she suddenly feels very grateful Michelle disappeared from her life when she did. 

\--------------------------- 

Exactly one week after the accident, Judy starts her day with a call from the hospital, rather than the other way around. 

When the nurse on the other end of the line tells her that today's the day, she stumbles across Jen’s bedroom in her haste to untangle herself from the sheets and pull something on to leave the house in. She ends up tugging on the jean skirt she’s been wearing for the past two days and a sweater from Jen’s closet, subconsciously pulling it close as soon as it’s over her head. 

It’s only when she’s sitting in the car, her hands shaking on the steering wheel and the boys staring at her expectantly, that she realizes just how terrified she is. 

\--------------------------- 

As it turns out, coming out of a coma isn’t anything like the movies. Rather, it’s more of an all-day event, starting with the doctors slowly lowering the dosage of Jen’s medication. 

She doesn’t fully come to until the day is almost over, Judy having spent most of it on the edge of her seat. The boys went home with Christopher an hour earlier, with Judy insisting on being there for when Jen finally opens her eyes. 

When she does, it’s with a grumble and a frown. Judy immediately bursts into tears. 

It’s another hour of slow progress before Jen can speak full sentences, and Judy fills up the silence with updates and anecdotes from the past week, Jen playing with the rings on her hand while she listens, occasionally providing a comment or two. 

Judy’s about to go ask a nurse for a cot so she can stay the night, when Jen clears her throat. 

“Hey,” she starts as if to get Judy’s attention, apparently unaware that it’s been on her the entire time. “Thank you. For everything.” She pauses, drawing in a breath. Judy stands by and waits for whatever is coming next. 

“I love you - Judes, I love you so much.” 

Judy smiles so hard she feels manic. “I love you, too.” 

And then Jen is kissing her hands, mumbling a series of “thank yous” against her fingertips - _thank you for being here_ , _thank you for staying, thank you for taking care of us_ \- and Judy feels shaky on her feet at the undivided, purely emotional attention. 

Before she can make sense of it, Jen is pulling her down towards the bed, staring up at her in a way Judy’s only ever caught glimpses of in passing. And before she has time to question what it means, Jen is kissing her soundly on the mouth. 

Judy gasps against Jen's lips and leans into it, her stomach doing somersaults.

And then it’s over. Jen pulls away, her lips still parted, squeezing Judy’s hands apologetically. 

“Do you remember right before the accident, when we were at the intersection?” 

Judy opens and closes her mouth, entirely unsure of where this is going. She settles for nodding, knowing Jen is trying to work through a lot, and all at once. 

“When we were sitting at that stop sign, all I could think was how badly I wanted to kiss you. I felt like I was going to die if I didn’t kiss you right then.” Jen stops to swallow roughly, working her jaw. Judy feels like her heart is about to beat right out of her chest. 

“I told myself there would be time for that - at home, or on vacation, or any other moment that wasn’t at a stop sign. But then I almost did die without kissing you, and I just couldn’t go another moment without knowing what that feels like.” 

“You wanted - and _I_ wanted -” Judy stutters, feeling like she’s about to combust. Instead, she gulps down a shaky breath. “Jesus Christ, Jen.” 

Jen laughs out loud, before wincing at the sudden movement.

"Hey," Judy murmurs as she leans over and trails a hand across Jen's forehead. “As much as I want to hear all about how bad you've wanted to kiss me, I think that's something we can unpack tomorrow. Let's go to bed, okay?"

Jen nods, twisting slightly so her head pushes further into Judy's hand.

When a beat passes without either of them moving, Jen opens one eye to look at her, tugging on the hand she’s still holding. “Get in here.” 

“You got it,” Judy answers as she slips under the covers, carefully positioning herself so she doesn’t unnecessarily jostle Jen. 

“Jesus, Jude. You can put your arm around me, I won’t collapse.” 

“Yeah, but I might,” Judy flirts before she can overthink it, sliding an arm around Jen’s waist, pressing her hand flat against her stomach. The feeling of Jen breathing in and out, steady and very much alive, has tears springing to her eyes. 

She presses a kiss to the back of Jen’s exposed neck, and the happy hum she receives in response is almost worth everything they’ve been through. 

For the first time in a week, Judy lets herself settle into the idea that they might finally be in the clear. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on twitter, I happen to be on there too: @anniebrackettt (that's an extra t!)


End file.
